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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389732">roulette</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/distinque/pseuds/vanilluhbeaux'>vanilluhbeaux (distinque)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Naruto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Uchiha Sasuke - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:47:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23389732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/distinque/pseuds/vanilluhbeaux</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m going to ask you a couple questions. After every question, I’ll shoot. You have a one in three chance of dying.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>roulette</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sakura sucked in a shaky breath quickly, greedily before releasing it as quickly as she got it, sending it on it’s way out of her body warmed and wet. Her body rocked slightly as she released that breath and then took in another, but she did her best to hold still. Old, cold water sent chills down her spine as it dripped down her hair and onto pale skin, raising goosebumps all over her exposed arms and legs. When the water hit her flesh, it dried instantly, leaving her hot and sticky, too slick to touch but not slick enough to get her thighs unstuck from her metal chair. Her lungs felt like they couldn’t hold anymore air, but when she exhaled, she felt it would be her last breath. The worst part came from the irritation in her eye—a small red dot flashed on and off in front of her. The color was so intense it burned her bottle-green eyes, but she couldn’t bring herself to look away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They were looking at her.</span>
  </em>
  <span> She cycled between</span>
  <em>
    <span> not enough</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>too much</span>
  </em>
  <span>, wet and freezing to burning and itching and yearning and looking—and being looked at.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The fluorescent lights above her flickered every few moments, and she was convinced that they would give out while she was stuck in the tiny room, leaving her stranded in darkness. Truthfully, the light given off was minuscule at best, so she did not know if darkness was so different from what she was in. Not knowing, however, is sometimes best. She hoped the lights stayed on. The heavy metal door was locked from the outside, she heard the lock grind against the metal after she was ushered into the room, half-drowned and half-sedated, but awake and alert and unable to do anything about it. At times, it appeared to move—but she had no idea if that was due to drugs or fever. They certainly had not moved it an inch, otherwise she would’ve heard it too—right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To confirm her suspicions, the door scraped against the metal ground, a cacophonous racket reverberating in her ears. Ironically, it seemed that the door swung open with ease. In walked two men, one Sakura did not bother looking at because he was nobody compared to </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>His glowing red eyes told a story Sakura had heard hundreds of times from thousands of different people—it seemed that everyone told his story but she’d never had the honor of hearing it from him. She’d never seen him before, not directly, at least. Sure there were crude drawings and old photographs, but nothing prepared her for the imposing man that stood before her. Seeing him, live and in person, was like looking into a volcano—and judging by those red eyes—he was ready to erupt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took the seat opposite her, and made the room ten times smaller than it already was. The only thing separating them was a small white table, four feet of air, and a revolver. She could still see the flashing of that red light, if she wanted to, but the red eyes in front of her commanded her attention. Unconsciously, she straightened her back up and adopted a neutral expression on her face—her labored breathing becoming undetectable. Old tricks engrained in her DNA, though futile and possibly fruitless. She studied him as he sat down, his back straight but relaxed, hunched shoulders and those burning eyes, almost looking tired. He interlaced his fingers and propped his chin on his elbows and looked at her for a second, his face blank and emotionless. Every slight move she made, he followed. Every blink, head tilt, or sigh, he was there, making the move with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another old trick.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, he smiled. A small smile that meant absolutely nothing to her, but in her mind she could recall that smile meaning everything to someone that meant everything to her. She didn’t know what he saw in him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know who I am, Sakura?” he asked, his voice light, as if they were having a conversation over dinner. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, Itachi,” she answered, her own voice weak and unrecognizable to her. She’d been nearly drowned and heavily sedated before she was brought here, she knew that—but it was still painful to note that she could not follow her academy training. No emotions, never let the enemy know that you’re down. She spied something gold in his fingers, and she watched it intently as he played with it—circling in between his fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you’ve had a long day—I’ve had one as well,” he started, his voice relaxed, “So I think it’d be easier on both of us if we played a game. Do you like games?” Sakura almost opened her mouth to speak, but clamped it shut before she let a peep out. Her day was more than long—it seemed more like a series of days that dragged on endlessly, and would not end until she was dead. “Sasuke liked games.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t deserve to say his name!” she bit back, unable to control herself. She felt herself leap forward in her seat, her thighs ripping painfully from the chair. Itachi mirrored these movements, eliminating some of the distance between them. It was true—</span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t deserve to say his name. He didn’t deserve to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sasuke. Itachi </span>
  <em>
    <span>destroyed </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sasuke—and she had to put him back together, piece by broken piece.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Itachi put the gold item on the table, showing Sakura that it was a bullet—a single bullet. Gingerly, he snapped it into the revolver and spun it, aiming the gun at her. “Are you a gambler, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sakura</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My father taught me this game,” Itachi continued, sighing. “I’m going to ask you a couple questions. After every question, I’ll shoot. You have a one in three chance of dying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s six rounds in that gun,” Sakura spoke, her eyebrow quirking up. “I counted before you came in.” He gave her a strange look, but then chuckled at her, shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I’d let you get a turn,” he reasoned, that easy smile returning to his face. “A game is no fun if everyone doesn’t get a turn, right?” Sakura couldn’t help the flash of white hot anger that rushed through her body. Her life—Sasuke’s life—they were nothing more than games to Itachi. She was a plaything, a toy, that he had in his hand and could do whatever he wanted with, and his method of torture was to play a </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> game. She was so angry, she could kill him—she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>going </span>
  </em>
  <span>to kill him. “I know you’re going to cheat and pull the trigger until I die, so I’m going to hold on to it—I promise to play fair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Play with yourself!” she screamed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He aimed the gun at her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take a breath.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where is Sasuke?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She couldn’t breathe. This wasn’t her first time looking down the barrel of a gun, but this was her first time staring into those evil eyes—and it took her breath away. Her lungs heaved and she was once again feeling not enough and all too much all at once. Her heart that was once steady and monotonous, suddenly pounded in her chest, and she swore it could break free from her rib cage and run wild had it not been for her, admittedly soaked, vest. Itachi was going to kill her, right here, right now. She needed to think. She needed to lie. She needed—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gun clicked, empty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was safe. She won this round. It was nothing but luck, but dammit she was alive and she would not waste it. Her lungs felt lighter, her heart slowed slightly, falling back into their rhythms as she relaxed. “You didn’t answer,” he shrugged, aiming the gun at his own temple. “But you get to ask me something, anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked at him, glaring, and asked, “Why are you doing this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need to see my baby brother again,” he answered simply before pulling the trigger. His fingers squeezed quickly—with determination, and she did not miss that he didn’t even bother to blink. He was secure in his actions, he felt safe holding his gun to his head. She couldn’t tell if the water trailing down the side of her neck was sweat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He aimed the gun back at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She felt herself stiffened and she cursed her natural instincts; they conflicted with her training. He aimed the gun at her. If she followed her training, she could be out of here. He was going to shoot. Her training prepared her for moments like these and she was </span>
  <em>
    <span>blanking—</span>
  </em>
  <span>He could kill her right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Close your eyes,” he said, his voice oddly soothing, deep and slow and </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>relaxed. “Sometimes it helps.” She followed his instructions, closing her eyes tightly, highlighting the sick paleness of her skin. She could feel beads of sweat drip down her eyelids and onto her nose. She could feel the way she shook when she breathed, taking in short, ragged breaths. She heard when his finger went to the trigger, not pulling but resting there delicately, deliberately. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was sure in all his movements. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where is Sasuke?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s done this before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Suna,” she answered, quickly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gun clicked, empty. She snapped open her eyes, her pink brows furrowed. “What the fuck?! You shot anyway?!” He slammed a hand on the table, causing the raggedy piece of metal to shake and creating a thunderous clap. For the first time, those glowing red eyes looked uneasy—angry even—and Sakura could feel the frustration coming off of him in waves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>lied,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he said cooly, his voice betraying his demeanor. “You really think I’d believe that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’d </span>
  </em>
  <span>give Sasuke up so easily? Don’t answer that.” He let out a little laugh, blowing off steam. “I know you better than that by now, kid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know me at all,” she spat back, sitting up in her chair—training be damned. “You don’t know me or Sasuke!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he asked, with mock surprise in his voice. “I don’t know the little pink-haired girl who baked my brother cookies every Sunday? The girl who’d ride her bike all throughout town just to meet up with him when he walked to school? The same girl my brother taught to drive in </span>
  <em>
    <span>my </span>
  </em>
  <span>car?” He let out another laugh, wrapping one hand around his stomach. “I mean, you are the same pink-haired, green-eyed Sakura that my brother wrote about in his </span>
  <em>
    <span>diary, </span>
  </em>
  <span>right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He...he wrote about me?” she asked, leaning back in her chair, a light flush falling over her face. It was embarrassing—she was being held </span>
  <em>
    <span>hostage, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and this was the time where she chose to act like a seventeen year old schoolgirl instead of a twenty-three year old assassin. Yeah, good going, Sakura. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All the time. That boy was smitten before he even knew it,” he said,  a light smile on his face. Without hesitation, Itachi put the gun to his head and fired—the gun clicking, empty. His movements were quick, and again, he didn’t blink. His movements were fluid, swift and clean and there wasn’t a hint of resistance in his body. In fact, it seemed that Sakura took every bit of hesitation from him—jumping and flinching every time he pulled the trigger. This time, her heart didn’t have time to skip a beat. It simply marched to its own metronome, quicker than usual. “You’ve got to lighten up,” he said, aiming the gun back at her. “Usually, this is where the game ends. It’s almost over.” He whispered the last part like a prayer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is where one of us loses,” Sakura said back, her voice equally low, hanging her head. “Me, right? Or the person in my position.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you say that?” he asked, genuinely intrigued. “Fuck,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t want that as my question—can’t take it back now, I guess.” He raised the gun at her, steady but bored, a little annoyed with himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because, you’re here,” Sakura said, closing her eyes, “so that means you’ve never lost. You’ve clearly played this game before—you don’t even fucking blink when you’re about to shoot yourself in the head—and you’re still </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive.</span>
  </em>
  <span> So that just leaves...me. Dead.” She let a tear slip down her face, and she felt herself shake, her body racking with tremors. Before she knew it, she felt another tear slip down her face, and another—she was crying. This wasn’t the first time someone held a loaded gun to her head, but this was the first time she </span>
  <em>
    <span>cried </span>
  </em>
  <span>about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not wrong,” Itachi replied, his voice solemn. “I’ve played this game </span>
  <em>
    <span>thousands</span>
  </em>
  <span> of times...and I’ve never lost. I don’t plan on losing today, either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gun clicked again, and Sakura cried tears of relief. She looked up at him, watery-eyed and shaking, seemingly gasping for air. She opened her mouth to speak but the words wouldn’t come out—her jaw just hung there, pale pink lips trembling. She inhaled, shaky and uncoordinated—and then let it out the same way it came in. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>she found herself admitting, the words leaving her voice without a second thought. “I’ve never been this scared,” she admitted, this time feeling her words. A few more hot tears slipped down her face. “Aren’t you scared?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nobody’s ever asked that question,” Itachi mused, putting the gun to his temple. “I’m scared, too,” he admitted, sighing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He never noticed how cool the metal was against his slick skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt his own heart pounding in his chest, beating against his rib cage, threatening to squeeze it’s way out and run as far as it could. He felt his hand shaking, lightly, but definitely shaking. If he shot now, his skin would have a rough, shaking imprint rather than the smooth, simple hole he put into his less fortunate play-mates. His teeth chattered. He pulled the trigger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>lubb dubb</span>
  </em>
</p>
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